


Spiders and the Common Cold

by shiverfawkes



Series: Cumberbatch Crossover [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sensory Overload, Sick Character, Sickfic, Spoilers, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 05:52:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16738330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiverfawkes/pseuds/shiverfawkes
Summary: Peter is sick





	Spiders and the Common Cold

**Author's Note:**

> theres no sherlock in this but it's in the same universe as the other two stories so, whatever. 
> 
> somebody asked me to write about peter being sick, and this is what I do instead of homework, you're welcome. 
> 
> its actually not even that good, but it was a distraction. enjoy it anyway i guess
> 
> (also, i'm not that up to date with shit, like I've seen infinity war but I'm only now watching the winter soldier. So I don't know how the fuck F.R.I.D.A.Y works, im treating her like Jarvis, if you have an issue with that, I don't blame you.)

Peter woke with a start, groaning as he flinched awake and his head throbbed. He could feel the gravel in his throat, and let his head fall back against the pillows.

“Dad?” He croaked. “Dad!?” He yelled out before groaning, squeezing his eyes tighter as pain clawed at his throat.

Nobody was home, he knew that. He should be used to that by now.

He was just home on a break from school. He was used to an empty apartment. Why did he need them now?

Mr. Stark was at some important business meeting, and Dr. Stark was doing work at the sanctum. He’d had his robes prepared last night so it was important work, probably at one of the sanctums overseas.

He could feel the blanket flush against his skin, it was scratching uncomfortably, even though it had been just fine when he went to sleep. He kicked it off himself and over the side of the bed, eyes still closed.

He tried to open them and groaned as the blinding light from his window sent agony through his head.

“Friday?” He asked, his voice still weak but he knew she could hear him.

“Yes, Master Parker?” Her voice was too loud, it was all too loud, too hot, too close, uncomfortable. He wanted his shirt off now, he didn’t want anything touching him but his arms hurt too much to even move them, he could practically feel the blood rushing through his veins.

“Block out the light.” He asked, his voice was pathetically quiet that time, he knew she’d never pick that up.

“Pardon, sir?”

“Shut the blinds! Please!- ow…” He groaned as the intensity of his own voice was hurting his head and his throat. He could hear the blinds drop, and cracked open his eyes, to the considerably darkened room. Upon making an attempt to sit up, his stomach lurched, there wasn’t even time or energy in his body to stand up, and he leant over the bed as he wretched. He cringed at the sound and the feeling.

Acid stung his mouth, and his head was in anguish.

He flopped back against the bed, breathing heavily. “Friday, call dad.” He spoke quietly, his voice thick with tears as they spilled down his face.

“Which one?”

“I don’t care!”

“Both suit?”

“Sure.”

He wasn’t sure if he fell back asleep but in what felt like moments his door burst open.

“Kid I came as quick as I- Oh god- Peter!?” Its was Mr. Stark, Dad-T. “Kid, are you okay?”

Peter grimaced at how loud his voice was and raised a hand to let the older man know he was still alive. “I dunno. I threw up I just- Everything hurts an’ I-” He choked, as more tears fell down his face. He hated feeling this helpless, he was an avenger for crying out loud.

Tony laughed, Peter knew he was giving him that look, the mixture of disbelief and concern. When he didn’t really know what to do but pretended like he did anyway. “Yeah, I noticed, I’ll call Stephen, gimme a sec-“

“I already did- well, Friday did, can you not talk so loud?” He asked, turning his head to the sound of Tony’s voice. He managed to crack his eyes open, to see the blurry silhouette of the engineer leaning against his door frame.

“Sorry.” Tony spoke softer this time. “He’s at the sanctum, I don’t know if he’s in Hong-Kong or-“

Footsteps came as the front door opened, they were quick, frantic, and Stephen called out down the hall. “Peter!? I came as quick as I could- What’s- Tony?”

“Kid called us both, he’s sick.”

“Christ he’s twenty couldn’t he- oh Christ.”

“Sorry.” Peter muttered, his voice cracking with tears.

“Its fine Peter, I was a surgeon, a little vomit isn’t gonna turn me.” He came closer with gentle footsteps, and a cold hand was on his forehead. “You’re burning up.” The sorcerer muttered. “If I raise my voice how does that-“ His voice rose in dynamic with every word and an agonising pain ran through Peter’s skull the louder it grew.

He felt for one of Stephen’s hands, gripping it so hard that he could’ve broken it, but the elder made no comment, and held his hand back. He cried out in pain before any intelligible words could come from his mouth. “Ow! Ow- no stop please, Dad, it hurts- I can’t- I’m sorry- I-“ He cried, his breaths were uneven, he was practically hyperventilating. Stephen’s fingers pressed down against his wrist, checking his pulse, racing.

“It’s okay Peter, I know what’s happening now.” His voice was quiet this time, pleasant, his voice filled with concern. “You’re going into sensory overload, but I’m gonna take care of you, alright?”

Peter managed to force his eyes open, Stephens face was blurred but the worry and care was written clearly in his features. Peter swallowed thickly. “A-Alright.”

“Babe, the plaque, in the cabinet, get it quickly.” The sorcerer replied, turning to Tony, who was gone in a flash, running down the hall, away from Peter’s room.

“The plaque?”

“The one by my necklace and your dad’s heart.”

“Isn’t that just decoration?”

“Nothing is just decoration in this house.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a thing Tony and I made for you when this kinda thing happens. I’m gonna put it on your chest, and it’ll latch into you. Then it’s gonna deprive you for a few seconds, then it’s gonna drug you. I worked on it myself, trust me when I say it will work. You’re gonna be slightly loopy every time a new dose kicks in, but after a few minutes you’ll just be experiencing things at normal people levels, not spider people levels.”

“I'm the only spider person.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” Tony’s voice came, and moments later Stephen had pulled his shirt up to his neck, then something cold was pressed against his chest.

“This is gonna hurt a little, but you trust me, right?”

“Yeah, Dad, I trust you.”

A sharp pain rain through his chest, and his entire body jolted like he’d be shocked before things went dark.

Stephen sat up from where he was leaning over his son. He looked at his husband, who was staring at the kid in somewhat disbelief.

Peter lay limp in his bed, the arm that had been gripping Stephen’s hand fell over the side. His chest was moving up and down in a slower rhythmic pattern, and his facial expression had gone numb.

“Well I suppose we better mop that up.” Stephen spoke, not necessarily to Tony, but to anyone that would listen.

Tony spoke after a moment of silence. “He looks like he’s dead. We didn’t kill him, Stephen _tell_ me we didn’t kill him.” He tried to move forward, but the doctor was quicker, gripping him by the arms to keep him in place as he tried to move. After a moment of struggle, he gave up, resting his head against Stephen’s chest as he breathed, trying to steady himself, with each shaky exhale that left him.

The doctor held him close. “Tony, I measured the contents, I had somebody else pour them as I watched. I remade it over and over again to make sure it was reliable, to make sure we had everything right. You were there with me. He needs this. We didn’t kill him, check his pulse, look at him breathing. He’s okay.” Stephen spoke into Tony’s hair, one hand on the back of his head, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“I trust you. I just can’t watch him die again. Not again.”

“Tony, he has a bug. He’s not dying. But because he _is_ a bug, it’s affecting him slightly differently. It always looks a lot worse than it is. You’ve seen him in sensory overload before.”

“Yeah but we just shut off the lights and let ‘im sleep it off.”

“This way he can be conscious, I don’t want some sickness to ruin his time home. I also don’t want him to be in pain. He’s my kid too, remember.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But seriously, somebody has to mop that up.”

“Not it.” Tony declared, pulling away so he was looking up at Stephen with a watery smile on his face.

The doctor rolled his eyes and pulled the engineer closer to kiss him. “You’re such a child.”

“Get out of your robes, you’re probably gonna be here a while.”

“And you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

 

Peter woke up and his head wasn’t hurting anymore. Begrudgingly he opened his eyes and made an attempt to sit up.

He looked over the side of the bed to see it clean.

For a moment he thought the whole thing might have been a dream until he looked down. There was a lump sticking out of his chest, making an indent under his shirt. He lifted his shirt up by the hem, to see what looked like the logo of his suit, but metal, and stuck to his skin.

That meant that his dads were home.

He pushed himself up onto shaky legs, walking out into the kitchen, Tony was drawing up a blueprint for something and Stephen was reading the paper, doing the crossword as it appeared. Both were wearing their glasses, and more comfortable clothes than they’d been in before.

Peter had come to not even acknowledge how shaky his hands were when he held a pen. He’d been told the stories of why and where and when. But at this point he wasn’t concerned anymore. His handwriting was awful though, so much so that the school had called home the one time Stephen wrote him a sick note back in highschool.

Christ they’d been mortified when the great Doctor Stephen Stark had showed up at the gates with Peter the next day, dressed in his robes, and marched to the headmaster’s office with his son to exclaim the outrage it was.

Peter at that point had learned not to be embarrassed about anything, Ned had stared with everybody else as he walked past with his dad, Peter could only shrug at him but offered him a wink anyway.  

He wasn’t really sure why people even got surprised by stuff like that anymore. When he first got taken in by them, Tony had insisted on going to his parent-teacher-meetings, despite the fact that May was still willing to go to keep things normal.

The look on his teachers faces when Iron man sat in front of them with nerdy little Peter Parker was enough to make him laugh hysterically, but he managed to keep a straight face.

“How’re you feeling kid?”

Peter shrugged. “Better. About earlier, I’m so-“

“I swear to god Peter, if you apologise one more time.” Tony spoke, looking up at the young adult, who was holding himself, cold in his pyjamas.

“Oh, sor-“

“No! No sorry’s, no if’s, no but’s!” Tony cut him off, his voice incredulous and Peter couldn’t help but giggle.

“Okay. I just, I didn’t mean to inconvenience you two, that’s all.” He spoke, sitting at the breakfast bar. “Does this thing come out at some point?” He asked, turning to Stephen, pointing to his chest.

“Yeah, when the doses are out. We’ll see how you are without it for a bit, but if you get overwhelmed again, I’ll refill it.”

“Why the spider specifically? Couldn’t you just do it like normal injections.”

“You hate needles, Peter.” The doctor deadpanned. “Tony doesn’t like them either, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m certainly not up to giving injections anymore.” He laughed, raising the hand that was holding the pen to demonstrate.

Tony rolled his eyes at his husband. “Yeah, besides, it needed to look like it belonged. That’s why its in the cabinet, with the things that are important.”

“I don’t think a spider that drugs me is nearly as important as a time necklace and the thing that kept you alive for a while.”

 Stephen glanced up, giving him a look that shut him up in a second. “Yes, but you also wouldn’t think yourself as important as either of us, despite the fact that you are, if not more.”

“I’m not…”

“Aw, you’re blushing now!”

“Shut up!”

“I don’t have another meeting ‘till seven, if you want we could just watch a movie or something?”

“Won’t I get you sick though?”

“I’m not scared. Besides if you do, we live with a literal doctor.”

“I did brain surgery, I didn’t care for the common cold.”

“You know how to though, right?” Tony replied, a smirk on his face knowing he had Stephen in a clinch, the doctor hated admitting that he didn’t know something, because it was an unusual occurrence.

“… Yes.”

“Then your point is invalid. What movie do you wanna watch?”


End file.
